


Fix me

by GoForGoals



Category: Chris Hemsworth Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston Fandom, hiddlesworth - Fandom
Genre: Doctor/Patient, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-02-27 07:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18734830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals
Summary: Chris is a professional football player who injures himself in a match among friends. Tom comes to help him - and he stays.





	1. Hurt.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariothellama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/gifts).



> Dear readers,
> 
> I have just posted my first Thor/Loki fic a few days ago (thank you to all of you who read it!) and now I thought that I could start a Hiddlesworth fic. I have done a similar story in the Football fandom ("Good Medicine") but I promise that this story will not be the same.
> 
> WARNING: Graphic depictions of an injury in the first chapter.

"Chris, Chris, pass the ball over to me!"

Like a lightning bolt, Chris runs over the pitch, chuckling whole-heartedly. He feels bliss surging through his entire body, the warm summer sun shining down on him and his friends. Finally, he can play football just for fun and not for a living. Finally, he has some weeks off before the next season starts.

"No, I will score myself!" Chris shouts to his friends, speeding up his pace even more. Just when he is about to hit the ball into the net, he stumbles.

He stumbles and falls.

A horrible pain shoots through his right ankle and he can hear something break, a nasty sound that rings in his ears.

Then, he starts to scream.

 

***

 

Through his blurred vision, Chris notices that his best friend kneels down beneath him, taking his hand. "Nick is calling the ambulance," Tony says, clearly shocked, "hang in there, man."

Chris cannot say anything, occupied with uttering pained groans. He tries to glimpse at his foot but Tony is blocking the view. "Don’t look," he murmurs, grabbing Chris’ hand tighter.  
  
"The emergency doctor should be here in five minutes," Nick announces, fumbling with his mobile.

Chris is in too much pain to tell his friends that they probably should have called his team doctor, he just nods and lets out another high-pitched moan. The ache in his ankle isn’t fading, the whole leg hurting with every breath he takes.

Luckily, they are alone on the pitch, Chris thinks in his fogged mind, so that nobody can see the star player of England’s best football team lying on the ground, injured in a game among friends.

"Hurts so much," he croaks out, trying to move.

"Please lay still," Tony replies, "the hospital is just around the corner, they should be here soon."

"I told them that it is urgent," Nick adds helplessly.

Finally, they can hear the sound of the approaching ambulance.

Chris swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Gratefully, he takes a bottle of water that Nick is offering to him, sipping down at least a few drops. He closes his lids when the ambulance stops near the pitch, stealing himself for the inevitable.

He has been there before, injured and in pain.

"I’m Doctor Hiddleston. What happened exactly?" Chris hears a voice and he tears his eyes open, the soft tone of the physician cutting right into his soul.

"He stumbled and fell while he tried to score and he probably broke his ankle," Tony says, pointing at Chris’ leg.

"I see," the doctor replies, kneeling down right next to Chris. His assistants bring a medical bag that he opens. "I will give you something against the pain first."

Chris almost sobs in relief, watching how the doctor disinfects his arm, pushing a cannula through his skin afterwards. He flinches with the sting and inhales a shaky breath.

"It will get better soon," the doctor comforts him, emptying the content of a syringe into the cannula. A warm wave rolls through Chris’ veins, taking away most of the pain with it.

"Thank you," he manages to say, finally looking closer at the physician who is tall and slim, ginger curls framing his handsome face. Chris senses a strange feeling in his stomach but he puts it down to the medication he has just received.

"We’re trying to remove the shoe now," the doctor announces, carefully opening the laces. Despite the painkillers, another awful surge of ache flows through Chris’ leg and he flinches again, the groan soon culminating in a sharp cry when the physician puts his shoe away.

"Andy, call the hospital, we need an operating room," the doctor tells his assistant, bending over Chris’ ankle before he addresses his patient directly. "It’s an open fracture," he explains and only the soothing tone of his voice stops Chris from freaking out right here and there. He tries to glimpse at his ankle but the doctor opens a sterile cloth and folds it over the wound before Chris can see it. In the meantime, the assistants have brought a stretcher.

"Can you move?" the physician asks, helping Chris to shift his weight so that he can lay down onto the stretcher. He nearly faints when the assistants raise the stretcher to carry him into the ambulance, the doctor by his side.

"We’ll come to the hospital," Tony says, squeezing Chris’ hand, "we won’t leave you alone."

Chris nods weakly, the painkillers finally developing their full effect. Before he dozes off, he asks the question that is etched into his mind since the moment he has fallen onto the ground. He doesn’t know if the physician has recognized him, if he knows that Chris’ life depends on the answer of said question. "Doctor," he mumbles, more like a whisper, "will I be able to play football again?"

He looks at the physician, focussing on his face while he waits for the reply. "We’re doing everything we can, Mister Hemsworth. Take a rest now", the doctor answers. 

Chris feels his eyes water from his exhaustion, his shock and his despair. But before he gives in to the sleep - or rather coma - he hears that the physician says something else, almost inaudibly. "I will take care of you, I promise."


	2. In the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to write this story and kudos or comments are my encouragement. :-)

Chris’ next minutes and hours pass by in a blurry mix of voices and faces.

He is unconscious during the ride to the hospital but awakes when he is carried into the building.

"Compound open fracture," he hears the doctor saying before the world turns black.

A wave of pain has him conscious when they shift him onto the examination table. And there’s the soft voice again. "We’re doing an MRI and we’re getting you sedated for it".

A sob of relief shakes Chris and he tries to nod. The last thing he sees are the bright blue eyes of the physician.

 

***

 

"Mister Hemsworth? The surgery went well."

Darkness.

"Are you in pain?"

His throat, too hoarse to speak.

Groans.

"I’ll give him more painkillers."

That damn, tender voice.

Eyes too heavy to open.

Sleep.

 

***

"Chris? Chris, are you awake?"

Chris tries hard to focus on the person who is talking to him. It’s not the doctor, it must be …his friend?

"Tooony," he croaks out.  
  
"Thank god," Tony replies, shaking. "Nick is waiting outside, they allowed only one of us to come and see you."

"‘m fine," Chris struggles to say.

Of course he isn’t fine.

His leg is a raging source of pain, fixed into something like a cushion, and he feels as if a truck has run over him.

"The doctor said that the surgery went well," Tony continues, taking Chris’ hand. "But we have to wait how the healing goes."

Chris notices an alarmed tone in Tony’s voice and his head starts to spin.

"The doctor will see to you later," Tony continues. "Do you need anything? Water maybe?"

Chris nods, sipping from the glass that his friend is offering to him. Slowly, his vision becomes clearer and he looks around. He’s apparently in a hospital room, a rather large one with a good view.

Tony seems to understand what he wants to know. "You’re in the St. Mary’s Hospital. Doctor Hiddleston, the physician who operated on you, has informed your team doctor. And I have informed your family, your mom is on the way here."

Chris groans, thinking of the long flight from Australia his mother would have to endure.

"Don’t worry, she took the news quite well. Said that she wanted to visit you anyways", Tony explains.

A knock at the door interrupts their conversation and a person steps inside.

Chris blinks several times, finally seeing the doctor who has rescued him. "Ah, you’re awake!" the physician states, his blue eyes glowing.  
  
"We’re coming back later, Chris," Tony says, squeezing Chris’ hand. "Your mobile is in the drawer of your nightstand, you can text me or Nick if you need anything."

Chris nods. "Thank you, Tony," he rasps, his throat dry like sandpaper from the respiratory tube.

The physician takes a stool to sit down next to Chris once Tony has left them. "How are you?" he wants to know.  
  
_Fine, as long as you are talking to me,_ Chris thinks out of the blue and he shakes his head to get rid of that confusing thought.

"Okay," he whispers instead.

"Here, you can drink some water, but in small sips," the doctor states, taking the glass and raising it to Chris’ lips.

Their fingers touch when Chris tries to hold the glass by himself and an electric shock rolls through his body. "Your fingers are soft," he blurts out the first thought that comes up his mind.

The doctor smiles in response, followed by an infectious laugh that sounds like "ehehehe". Chris is immediately addicted to it.  
  
"I see that you are doing better," the physician states, "so it’s time to introduce myself again. I’m Doctor Hiddleston."  
  
"I’m Chris," Chris replies.  
  
"I know," the doctor says. "Mr. Hemsworth, your ankle…"

"Please. Please, call me Chris," Chris answers.

The physician hesitates for a second. "Well then, Chris. Your ankle is fixed with plates and screws but we have to watch the wound closely. The bone has broken through the skin and there is a high risk of an infection. You will receive antibiotics and we will clean the wound twice a day."

"Who is going to do that?" Chris knows that he sounds like a madman, but he doesn’t even care, partly probably because he’s still suffering through the aftermath of the surgery. The doctor tilts his head to the side and looks at Chris. Before he can say anything, Chris continues. "Because I want to… I would like to… Please, could you do that? I trust you. See, I have been through so many injuries and…" his voice trails off, exhaustion claiming him.  
  
"I can do that, yes," the doctor answers to his surprise. "Whenever I am here, I will take care of you personally. I talked to your team doctor and he said that our hospital should continue with your treatment. He seems to be satisfied with our knowledge."

"That’s… good to hear…" Chris murmurs, his eyes falling shut against his will.

The doctor stands up and gifts Chris with another smile. "Take a rest, Mr. Hemsw…. Chris. I will see to you later."

"Thank you, Doctor Hiddleston…." Chris replies but the physician interrupts him.

"Tom. My name is Tom."


	3. A football fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and the kudos: Feedback is love! <3
> 
> (And yes, I have experienced similar injuries - still not everything might be "correct" from a medical point of view.)

In the afternoon, Chris’ friends return to the hospital, providing him with fresh clothes and his toilet bag.

"You look much better, dude," Tony says and Nick nods. "Are you in great pain?“

"No, I am not. The doctor is taking good care of me," Chris blurts out.

Tony raises his eyebrow and smiles. "He seems to be very competent."

"Yes, he definitely is," Chris answers. "But I’m still scared that I might never be able to play football again."

Nick shakes his head. "One day at a time," he answers sympathetically, "you’re in the best hands here."

Chris sighs. "Yes, I am. I really am."

 

***

 

The visit of his friends has exhausted Chris more than he would have imagined. Still, he cannot sleep afterwards, a million thoughts running through his mind.

What about his career. What about his ankle, the surgery, the long rehab in front of him. Carefully, he tries to wiggle the toes of his injured foot, noticing with relief that his nerves and muscles are still working.

He considers an early end of his career. He would probably be able to play for two or three seasons longer, but at which costs? During the last years, he has earned enough money for a lifetime.

And then, his thoughts rush to another issue.

There has been no partner in his life for several years now. He has dated some girls, never reaching a serious relationship with one of them. The older he gets, the more he understands that he is probably not even interested in women on the long term.

In fact, he has never been interested in anyone particular before.

Not until a certain doctor has shown up.

Chris swallows hard when he thinks of Tom, his gentle voice, his soft hands, the messy hair and his wonderful laughter.

Yet, this cannot be.

Chris tosses on the mattress, trying to get rid of the disturbing thoughts, but to no avail.

Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees Tom’s blue eyes right in front of him, feels his touch, hears his chuckles.

Eventually, Chris dozes off into a fitful sleep.

 

***

 

He awakes the next morning when the nurses are bringing a light breakfast for him. "You can eat something," the nurse explains to him, "Doctor Hiddleston will come to see you once he has finished his round through the ward."

Against his will, Chris’ heartbeat speeds up. He asks the nurse to hand him his toilet bag, so that he can at least brush his teeth and clean himself with a washing mitten. The nurse assists him and Chris feels slightly better after the treatment and some bites of food.

Nervously, he waits for Tom to arrive. Chris’ throat is still hoarse and he reaches for the glass on his nightstand to drink some sips. However, due to a clumsy move, the glass slips out of his fingers, the water spilling all over his blanket and his chest. "Oh goddammit it," Chris swears, helplessly gazing at the mess that he has caused.

Out of the blue, Tom is in the room, gazing at him with concern. "What has happened?" he asks with that velvet voice of his.

"I let the glass fall," Chris admits, "sorry, doctor… I mean… _Tom_." Speaking out the name aloud has a strange effect on Chris, the three letters coming from his lips almost like a caress.

He’s shocked about himself but he can’t care because the doctor now removes his blanket. "The nurses will bring you a dry one," he states, "but you should also get a fresh shirt. You can undress that operating gown anyways. Shall I help you?"

Chris just stares at him and nods, pointing at the wardrobe while a lump forms in his throat. "My friends… have brought some stuff," he stammers, following Tom with his gaze who opens the wardrobe and finds a simple black shirt.

"Is that one alright?" he wants to know, showing it to Chris.

Chris nods, briefly asking himself why the doctor doesn’t leave that task to the nurses too.

"I don’t want you to catch a cold or pneumonia," Tom explains, coming closer. "Can you get rid off this gown on your own?"

"Yes!" Chris hastens to say, fumbling with the fastenings. He’s very well-aware that he is naked except for the translucent fabric of the gown and he starts to sweat, both from his effort to undress and his sudden shyness.

"Wait, let me help you," Tom says softly, his hand darting to Chris’ flank to free the gown. "Here you go," he adds, gently removing the cloth. They are so close to each other now that Chris can smell Ton’s after-shave and his very unique, enticing scent.

Chris looks at Tom, sees the incredibly blue eyes, the ginger curls and the blinding smile - and he even forgets that he is naked because something is twisting and turning in his stomach, and it has nothing to do with food but with another hunger. "Thank you," Chris croaks out, taking his shirt, never leaving Tom’s gaze.

"You’re welcome," the doctor adds quietly. Tom doesn’t glimpse at Chris’ lower parts and Chris is utterly thankful for it, he just looks him in the eyes, even while Chris pulls his shirt over his head.

"Do you need some briefs too?" Tom asks casually, returning to the wardrobe and waiting for Chris’ permission to search for them between his belongings.

"Yes," Chris states, "that would be … great."

Tom takes white briefs and hands them to Chris who tries to put them on, struggling with his injured foot because two drainages are still stuck inside his skin.

"Oh, I can remove them quickly," Tom states and Chris groans in response, remembering how painful the removal of the tubes has been during his last injuries.

"I know," the doctor answers, "but I’m trying to be as cautious as possible."

Chris sighs in defeat, already stealing himself for the ache when something comes up his mind. "Can we talk throughout the procedure?" he asks, hoping that Tom’s soothing voice will comfort him.

The doctor smiles, rummaging through the shelves to find the items he would need. "Of course," he states, "did you know that I am a football fan?"

Chris makes big eyes. "You are? Which team?"

Tom washes his beautiful, elegant hands and puts gloves on afterwards. "Of your team," he admits cheerfully.

"Wow!" Chris exclaims, "have you ever seen a match in the stadium?"

Tom comes closer and disinfects Chris’ wound with a spray.

"Yes," he confirms, "I usually see around two or three matches each season."

Chris gets more and more excited, forgetting about everything else. Football is his life, he realizes.

"I even own a jersey of your team," Tom continues, grabbing the first tube. "Deep breaths," he adds when he feels that Chris is tensing up.

Chris focusses on his breathing and lets out a low moan when Tom pulls out the first tube with one swift move. "From which player," he croaks out while waves of pain shoot through his entire leg. He tries hard not to panic when the doctor grabs the second tube.

Tom looks at Chris before his gaze returns to his leg. "From a player I adore since many years," he continues, "because he is a beast on the pitch. Fast, clever, and well yes, also handsome."

Chris immediately gets jealous, running through the list of his teammates in his mind. "What’s his name," he manages to say.

Tom pulls at the tube quickly and when everything is done, ache raging through Chris’ leg like molten fire, he finally answers.  
  
"His name is Chris."


	4. A deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is my fuel, so please leave some kudos or even a comment for me if you like Chris’ and Tom's journey. :-)

Chris doesn’t trust his ears, completely taken aback. "You own _my_ jersey?" he asks, just to make sure.

"Ehehehe. Yes, I do," Tom replies.  
  
Chris senses that he should say something, but he can’t grab a clear thought and so he utters the next best thing that crosses his mind. "Do you want me to sign it?" Chris is shocked himself because of his rather blunt and stupid question. "Oh shit, I’m sorry," he continues hastily.

Tom tilts his head to the side and fixes Chris with his eyes. "No, don’t be. That’s a good idea to be honest," he says. "Let’s make a deal: I’ll come to your first match after your rehab and you’ll sign my jersey then. What do you think?"

Chris is at loss for words. "That would be amazing," he finally brings out, digesting Tom’s words. "Do you really think that I can play football again?" he adds after a moment.  
  
"Yes," Tom says firmly, "there’s a long road in front of you but you won’t walk it alone."

Chris swallows. "Thank you," he answers, "you’re the best doctor I had in a long while."

Tom blushes at the somewhat compliment. "By the way, your team doctor will visit us in the evening. We will discuss the next steps of your treatment together with you", he replies.  
  
"I will persist that you will continue the treatment," Chris states. "I won’t accept anybody else."

Tom smiles at him. "I’m glad to help you, Chris. Always."

Only when Tom is gone, Chris realizes that he has called him "handsome" before.  
  
  
***  
  
  
His team doctor arrives in the early evening, coming to Chris’ room with Tom in tow. "Hey Chris, how are you doing?" he asks. Chris has always liked the friendly man who must be in his early sixties now.

Chris wriggles his toes in response. "I’m quite the old one," he jokes, "except for all that metal in there."

"Regarding the metal," Tom says, taking some x-ray and MRI images he has brought with him and pinning them onto a screen at the wall, "here you can see what we did exactly to fix the broken bones."

Chris almost vomits when he sees the picture. "That looks like a puzzle," he whispers, "like a puzzle with _many_ pieces."

"It looks worse than it is," Tom tries to soothe him. "We could fix everything with two plates and some screws."

"Good work," Chris’ team doctor states appreciatively. "We couldn’t have done it any better. You can definitely continue Chris’ treatment here."

Chris however can’t take his eyes from the images of his broken ankle. "That looks like a spare part depot," he croaks out. Sweat breaks out of his pores and he feels sick to the stomach.

Tom notices his state in an instant. "We can continue our talk in my office," he suggest to Chris’ team doctor. "And I’ll be back with you once we are done there."

Chris nods, bile rising in his throat. With a quick motion, Tom removes the images from the wall. Tom guides the team doctor out of the room after he has said goodbye to Chris, but he turns around before he closes the door, returning to his patient.

"Here, take this," he says, bringing Chris a glass of water. "I’ll be back as soon as possible, try not to panic in the meantime, will you?" Gently, almost coincidentally, Tom touches Chris’ forearm, grounding him with the simple caress.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Anxiously, Chris waits for Tom to return to him, the images of his patched-up ankle etched into his mind.

How is he supposed to ever play football again with that fragmented bone? Or even to walk?

Chris takes deep breaths, staring at the door to his room, hypnotizing the handle. His ankle feels dull, as if it wasn’t a part of his body any longer.

Finally, Chris notices that the door handle is pushed downwards. He prays that it’s Tom, that he can talk to him about his worries and doubts.

"Hey," the doctor greets him when he enters the room, taking a chair to sit down right next to Chris.

"I’m so glad that you are here," Chris says, having a hard time to hold back his tears. "My foot looks … devastating."

Tom shakes his head. "As I said, it looks worse than it is. We have been able to bring all the fragments back into place. If the healing goes well, we can remove the plates and the screws in some weeks."

"And if not?" Chris almost doesn’t dare to ask.

"The only risk is that you catch an infection. But we will notice that early because of the typical signs. Your ankle would feel warm then, and swollen."

"I don’t know how it feels right now…" Chris replies, still close to freaking out.  
  
"May I check?" Tom stands up and moves to the end of the bed.

"Yes. Yes, of course," Chris answers. He watches how Tom washes his hands before he folds the blanket away and takes Chris’ foot, this time without gloves so that he is able to check the temperature.

"The blood circulation is good," Tom states, carefully stroking over the skin, testing the warmth everywhere within reach.

Chris however isn’t even able to respond, the simple touch already overwhelming him. Tom is so gentle and yet so determined, his fingers doing miracles to Chris’ soul, and he sighs deeply.

"Does that hurt?" Tom wants to know, a slightly alarmed tone in his voice.

"No, not at all," Chris answers, hesitating. "In fact, it’s quite… good."

Tom looks at him, Chris’ leg still in his hands. He strokes the sole of Chris’ foot, his thumbs rubbing over the top.  
  
"Tom, I…", Chris eventually starts but he doesn’t come any further because there’s a knock at the door and Tom lets go of Chris’ leg, much to Chris’ frustration.  
  
However, Tom still looks at Chris so intensively that it feels very much like a caress.


	5. The visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the (admittedly rather short) update! :-)

"Darling!" Chris hears a well-known voice, the voice of a woman.

Tom looks at him, his eyes growing big and he swallows hard. There’s shock in his gaze and also a sudden sadness.

„Hey Mom!“ Chris exclaims hastily, seeing with satisfaction that relief spreads out over Tom’s handsome face.

Chris’ mother enters the room, not saying anything but immediately embracing her son.  
  
"Mom," Chris says touched. "You shouldn’t have taken the strain of the long flight. I’m okay, really. By the way, here’s my physician. Doctor Hiddleston - my mother Leonie."

Tom smiles at Chris’ mom, somehow strangely relieved, and shakes her hand. "I’m happy to meet you. And Chris is doing fine, the surgery went very well."

"That’s good to hear," Leonie replies, "thank you, doctor."

"My pleasure. I hope that you had a good flight from Australia?" Tom states, still smiling.

"Well yes, thank you," she says taken aback and Chris knows exactly that she’s speechless because of Tom’s incredibly blue eyes and his good manners.

"I’ll leave you alone then. Chris, you should report any change in the state of your ankle to the nurses. They will call me if anything happens," Tom breaks the silence.

Chris nods, glad that his mother is there, but also disappointed because the magic moment with Tom has passed by much too quickly.

"Sleep well, Chris" Tom says after he has checked Chris’ infusion. "I’ll be back in the morning."

"Sleep well too," Chris replies, exchanging glances with his physician. He sighs wistfully when Tom closes the door behind him and faces his mom.

"Darling," Leonie says, looking at the door and back to Chris. "What is going on here? Did I catch you in the act?" she laughs, apparently not knowing how right she might be with her suspicion.

Chris shrugs before he distracts her with a question. "Do you want the key to my house? You can sleep there."

„Ah, you already want to get rid of me,“ his mother jokes. "I will stay in a hotel nearby. And now you have to tell me everything about your accident."

Chris nods and then he starts to explain how his injury has happened, not sparing a single detail.

 

***

 

"Doctor Hiddleston seems to be a real gentleman," Leonie means when Chris has finished his story. „I’m relieved to see that you’re in the best hands here," she adds, stifling a yawn.

"Mom, you can go to the hotel, I’m alright," Chris says. "You must have a huge jet-lag."

"Are you sure?" Leonie replies, "I could indeed take a nap."

"Yes, I’m tired as well," Chris answers.

Hugging her son tightly, Chris’ mother says good night to him, promising that she would be back the next day.

After she has left, Chris finally has the time to think about Tom and his gentle touches, how careful he has examined his foot. Chris imagines Tom to caress him, not only his ankle, but also other parts of his body. He also thinks about stroking Tom in response, about running his fingers through Tom’s curly hair. About feeling his stubble upon his skin.

Chris groans when he realizes where his thoughts are going to, but he cannot stop them and he doesn’t even want to.  
  
He’s probably falling in love with a man. With the most amazing man in the entire universe.  
  
And he still cannot be sure that Tom is responding to his feelings, that he is even interested in men. Chris tells himself that he has to find that out as soon as possible but he has no idea how. He cannot ask the nurses or the medical staff and he doesn’t dare to ask Tom himself. Partly because he doesn’t want their flirting - _is it even flirting?_ \- to end and partly because he doesn’t want to molest Tom.

But still, Chris sees Tom in his mind whenever he closes his eyes. He sees his long, elegant legs, his radiant smile, his beautiful hands.

Eventually, Chris falls asleep with Tom in his thoughts, dreaming of his blue eyes and his soft voice.

 

***

 

When Chris awakes in the middle of the night, his ankle is blazing hot.


	6. Another surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the next update. Feedback is always very welcome. :-)

Chris rings the electric bell frantically, hoping that a nurse will see to him soon. Within minutes, the door to his room is opened. "Please, my ankle," he whimpers, pain shooting through his foot.  
  
The nurse checks his foot quickly before she leaves. "I’ll call Doctor Hiddleston," she announces. Chris can hear her running through the ward. He lays in his bed paralyzed, the pain becoming worse and worse.

Eventually, the nurse returns. "He is here in ten minutes," she states, bringing an ice pack with her. "We will cool your ankle in the meantime."

"Thank you," Chris croaks out, the cold of the ice pack clearing his mind at least partly. He glimpses at the clock on the wall, inwardly counting the minutes and the seconds.

Exactly ten minutes after the call, Tom enters the room. He wears casual clothes and looks as if he has been sound asleep only moments ago, his hair even messier than usually. "What happened?" he wants to know, washing his hands and slipping into gloves the nurse gives to him.

"I woke up because my ankle suddenly became hot," Chris explains, flinching when Tom removes the ice pack and the bandage around his foot.

"It’s hot and swollen," Tom murmurs, pressing his fingers against Chris’ skin.

"Shit, that hurts," Chris groans. He feels that his heartbeat is pacing up, but not in a good way.

"Get the operation room ready," Tom orders the nurse, "we have to reopen the wound to see what’s going on."

Chris takes deep breaths, but to no avail.

"It’s an inflammation and it’s spreading quickly," Tom explains in a hurry, "we need to clean the wound and put you on antibiotics afterwards.“

"Will I…" Chris starts, his voice dying away. "Will I lose my leg?" he says.

"No," Tom soothes him, "we have a lot of other options first." He takes Chris’ wrist and measures his pulse, worrying his eyebrows. "I’ll give you something against the pain."

He moves away and comes back with a syringe. To Chris’ surprise, Tom sits down next to him and takes his hand, the cannula for the infusion still stuck in the back. "Try to relax," Tom says while he holds Chris’ hand, pushing the content of the syringe into his vein. It burns a little, but afterwards Chris’ gets dizzy, the pain fading away.  
  
Probably also because Tom is still holding his hand.

"Listen, Chris," Tom says urgently, "we will fight the infection from the outside but you need to fight it from the inside. Think of something pleasurable, something you want to do when you are out of the hospital."

Chris smiles, his vision blurring more and more. "I want to have dinner," he murmurs.

"Good," Tom replies, "think of the ...eh... woman you want to have dinner with."

"Noooo," Chris mutters with effort, "I want to go…." he threatens to fall asleep, the drug already anesthetizing him.

It takes all of Chris’ remaining strength to utter the entire sentence. "I wanna go… with you."

 

***

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

Chris isn’t sure where he is and what has happened to him, he just hears constant beeping, a sound like a heartbeat.

His heartbeat.

He dozes off again just to awake to the sound of two voices. He knows the voices but he cannot really understand to whom they belong.

"I think that he will wake up again soon, probably even within the next minutes". A man.

"I’m so glad that the surgery went well. Thank you, doctor." A woman, probably in tears.

"We could remove the inflamed tissue and the bone is healing quite well. He’s on antibiotics now and we will keep him in the intense care unit for the night."

"Can I stay here until he is awake? I think that he has developed a trauma during his hospital stays because of all of his injuries."

"Yes, sure. He’s been through very much, I read his medical file."

"Thank you doctor. By the way, are you also able to get a rest? Your wife must be waiting for you at home."

A sharp sting shoots through Chris’ mind and he starts to toss on the sheets.

„Shhh," he hears the man, apparently addressing him, before he turns to the other person. "There’s nobody waiting for me at home. I don’t have a partner", he says, waiting for some seconds. „Not yet,“ he adds so quietly that Chris thinks that he has maybe dreamt it.

"Chris, darling!" the woman says and finally, Chris remembers everything.

"Mom," he croaks out although he’s still not able to open his eyes.

"Chris, shhh, everything is fine. Your foot is okay again, they just operated on you. I’m here," she whispers, taking Chris’ hand.

Chris tries to clear his throat but he doesn’t succeed.

"He can drink some sips of water," the man says, and a warm feeling floods through Chris.

_Tom._

"There are feeding cups in the wardrobe down the hallway, would you please be so kind and bring one?" Tom asks Leonie, "I will check Chris’ vital functions in the meantime."

Leonie hurries to stand up. "Yes, of course. I’ll be right back."

When she has left the room, Tom takes Chris’ hand, checking the cannula there. "The surgery went well, Chris, the inflammation is under control."

Chris sighs deeply in relief and all of a sudden, he remembers that he has more or less asked Tom right before the surgery to go and have dinner with him. His heartbeat paces up immediately and Tom tightens the grip around his hand. "Take a rest, Chris, the last days have been really straining for you." Quickly, Tom strokes Chris’ hand. "By the way, I like sushi."


	7. A confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is my therapy at the moment, so here’s the next update. :-) I hope that you’ll enjoy!

Chris smiles the entire day although he is trapped in the intense care unit. His mother is by his side and Tom sees to him every few hours, exchanging deep and meaningful glances with Chris.

In the evening, Tom announces that Chris can return to the regular ward. The nurses wheel him back to his room in his bed and Chris still smiles, knowing that he is one step closer to his dinner with Tom.

Once his mother has left him for the night, Chris hopes inwardly that Tom will return to him one more time before the doctor is about to go home. And Tom doesn’t fail him, slipping into Chris’ room when it is already dark outside.

"Hey, Chris, how are you doing?" he asks, coming closer. "May I check on your foot?"

"Yes, of course, it feels much better," Chris answers.

Tom folds away the blanket over Chris’ ankle and smiles satisfied. "The swelling has declined," he states. "We will change the bandage tomorrow in the morning. I’ll be back until then to do it myself."

Chris just looks at him. "Thank you," he says, taking another deep breath. "By the way, I like sushi too."

Tom chews on his lips before he suddenly pulls off his coat, hanging it onto a hook. He returns to Chris and takes a stool. "Your medical file is rather long," he starts, „I have read everything about your former injuries. Your team doctor has provided me with the information."

"Knee, knee, ankle, hip, hip, ankle again", Chris murmurs, "almost like a pattern. Not to mention the several minor injuries."

Tom nods. "I have talked to your team doctor, we will dismiss you as soon as possible so that you can continue your rehab and treatment at home. I understand that you probably want to leave the hospital rather sooner than later."

"No!" Chris exclaims without thinking. "I mean, I can stay here, I have nothing against it, on the contrary…" he stumbles through a weird explanation.

Tom tilts his head to the side, looking at Chris questioningly. Chris needs several moment to get himself together and to finally utter his feelings. "I like it when you are around," he admits, barely audible.

In the next second, Tom shows his blinding smile. Slowly, he takes Chris hand, asking with his eyes for permission. Chris squeezes Tom’s palm and somehow, their hands get entangled. Chris adores Tom’s long elegant fingers and he strokes them carefully. "What are we doing here?" Chris eventually asks.

"I don’t know yet," Tom replies honestly, "but I am eager to find it out."

"Me too," Chris rasps. He still caresses Tom’s hand, fascinated by his soft skin. "You can do miracles with those hands, can’t you."  
  
Tom laughs his addicting laughter and Chris cannot help but to join in. "It might sound strange," Chris says, "but although I have picked up another severe injury, I probably haven’t been that happy in a long time."

"I’m happy too." With a gentle motion, Tom raises Chris hand and presses a kiss upon it. "I will be back tomorrow morning," he whispers, "sleep well, Chris." Tom stands up and hesitates for a second before he quickly strokes over Chris cheek with his thumb.

"Sleep well, Tom," Chris answers, wishing from the bottom of his heart that he would be able to just stand up and follow the doctor, follow him wherever he might go.

 

***

 

Chris sleeps soundly that night, still feeling Tom’s caresses upon his skin. He’s excited and nervous at the same time, he wants to come closer to the doctor and yet he is afraid of his own feelings.

When his mother visits him the next morning before Tom has seen to him, he decides to entrust his secret to her.

"Mom," he begins, "I have to tell you something."

His mother looks at him encouragingly but Chris just doesn’t find the right words. Somehow, speaking about his emotions would make them even more real, he thinks.

"I…" Chris tries but he shakes his head, still not knowing how to start.

His mother takes over for him. "He’s gorgeous," she says quietly.

"What?" Chris croaks out, "who is gorgeous?"

"Your doctor of course," Leonie answers, just as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Pardon me?" Chris manages to reply, his face already starting to heat up.

"Darling," Leonie states, "I might be older than you but I am not dumb. I know what is going on here. He’s flirting with you, everyone can see that."

"Is he?" Chris replies astonished.

"Yeah, and you are flirting with him."

Chris blushes now noticeably. "He’s indeed …gorgeous," he manages to say. "But aren’t you surprised that…."

"…that you are finding a man attractive?" Leonie fills in for him. "No, why should I? I’m attracted to men myself, I know the feeling quite well."

Chris is at loss for words just another time. "He held my hand yesterday," he finally admits, "but then he left me suddenly."

"Darling," Leonie replies, "he’s your doctor, he has to be careful here in the hospital. And you are a prominent patient, don’t forget about that. Taking your hand is a huge sign of affection."

"Do you really think so?" Chris is stunned about this kind of conversation with his mother of all people but he is glad that he can talk to her.

"Good things need time," Leonie replies, "and I have the feeling that he is doing you very good." Chris mother embraces him, whispering "I’m happy for you, darling. You deserve it," into his ear.

Chris hugs her back, forgetting about everything else around him. "I think I start to fall in love with him," he states sheepishly, his eyes growing big when his gaze travels to the middle of the room - and straight to his handsome doctor.


	8. Caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stop writing at the moment and I hope that you like the outcome! :-)

"Oh my goodness," Chris whispers embarrassed, "hello Tom."

Leonie lets go of Chris, immediately trying to distract the newcomer. "Good morning doctor," she states, "Chris had a peaceful night."

"That’s great to hear," Tom answers, "I have hoped that."

Leonie smiles back at him. "I’ll leave you alone then, I want to go for a walk anyways." Taking her bag, she makes her way to the exit. "See you later, darling!" she exclaims before she leaves her son and his doctor.

When she is out of the door Chris lets out a puff. "I’m sorry," he murmurs, "that I have talked about you to her, I mean."

Tom shakes his head. "Don’t be. She’s your mom and it’s an honor for me."

"Have you heard what I have said to her?" Chris simply has to know.

Tom looks him into the eyes for a very long time. "I have already felt it," he replies.

There’s silence afterwards until Tom turns to Chris’ ankle. "We should change the bandage and see how your foot is doing," he announces, "it’s not going to be comfortable, I fear."

"I can take it as long as you are doing it," Chris gives back.

"You’re a very patient patient," Tom states, getting ready for the treatment, "and a charming one too."

Chris smiles at the compliment but he screws up his face when Tom starts to remove the bandage around his foot.

"Easy," the doctor soothes him, "take deep breaths and think of something you are looking forward to. Sushi for example," he adds casually.

"I’ll take you to the best restaurant in town, I promise," Chris presses out through gritted teeth.

"I honestly can’t wait for it," Tom states, tugging away the rest of the bandage.

Chris indeed needs several breaths to deal with the pain in his ankle although it is better than the day before.

"I’ll clean the wound then you’ll get another bandage," Tom says.

Chris knows that the procedure will be awful and he tries to encourage Tom to talk him through it again. "What else do you like except for sushi?" he asks his doctor.

"Handsome football players with that certain something," Tom winks at Chris.

A hot, completely unexpected wave of arousal shoots through Chris from head to toes. "Oh," is all that he can say in response. His body however is so full of adrenaline that he doesn’t really feel the ache when Tom treats his ankle, wrapping a brand-new bandage around it afterwards.

"I hope that I haven't tortured you," Tom asks when he is done, washing his hands.

"No," Chris answers, "you haven’t. You never do."

Tom returns to him. "I’ll have to see to my other patients but I will come back to you in the evening before I’m calling it a day. You can get up tomorrow at latest, using crutches, and start physiotherapy."

"And have sushi?" Chris asks.

"And have sushi," Tom confirms with his velvet voice that causes goosebumps all over Chris’ skin.

 

***

 

Chris’ friends visit him in the afternoon but he doesn’t tell them about his doctor. He thanks them again for taking such good care of him, utterly grateful that he has people around him he can rely on.

His mother returns to him afterwards, telling him news about his brothers and their family, and suddenly it is evening.

"Do you mind that I go to the hotel?" Leonie asks Chris, "I’m still not used to your time zone."

"No, that’s fine. I guess… I will get another visitor. Maybe." Chris heartbeat hammers in his chest by the pure thought of it.

"I’m sure about that," Leonie replies, "he won’t go home until he has seen you before."

"I hope so," Chris murmurs.

Leonie ruffles Chris’ long hair. "Have a great evening, darling. And sleep well."

"Sleep well too, mom." Chris kisses his her cheek and he cannot help to imagine how it would feel to kiss Tom’s wonderful cheekbones.

 

***  
  
  


Chris has to wait a little bit longer for Tom this evening, every minute stretching into eternity. He even starts to fear that Tom has forgotten him when the door handle is finally pushed downwards.

"Hey!" Chris says, before a "wow" escapes him because Tom is dressed in his casual clothes, a red shirt and tight pants that suit him perfectly.

"Hey," Tom replies, raising a paper bag that he is holding in his hand.

Chris however can’t detect what the doctor is carrying. "What is that?" he asks curiously.

Tom beams at him. "Sushi, of course."


	9. Sushi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry that this update took so long and that it is most likely not very good. Real life has been a mess during the last days and I have been struggling with this chapter quite a lot. I had other plans for them but I oftentimes notice that the characters develop their "own will" during the writing process.  
> Anyway, I hope that you will like the update and that the next chapters will be better again.

"You have bought sushi….?" Chris asks, not daring to hope that Tom wants to have dinner with him, right here and there.

"Ehehehe, yes. That’s sushi for us." Tom looks very proud of himself. "Just wait a second, I’ll borrow plates from the nurses’ room." He leaves behind a stunned Chris who is excited like a teenage boy before his first date.

Hastily, Chris runs his fingers through his thick blond hair, trying to present himself in the best state possible. He’s relieved that his mother has helped him to get dressed in a neat black shirt with shorts in the morning, and he gazes down at his torso, flexing his muscles.

"You look great." Chris is astonished that Tom has returned so quickly, two plates in his hands. He sets them at the small table in front of the window. "Maybe you could even sit in the armchair over there," the doctor muses, "do you think that you can hobble while I’m supporting you?"

"Of course!" Chris replies within a millisecond, thinking about Tom coming closer to him. He sits up straighter in bed and moves his leg carefully over the edge.

"Slowly," Tom orders, sitting right next to Chris, "you’ll have to get used to being upright first." Gently, he wraps his arm around Chris’ waist and Chris cannot help but let his head sink slightly against Tom’s shoulder. "Yes, this way," Tom murmurs huskily.

Chris could sit forever like this but the smell of the sushi is filling the room and he breathes in deeply. "Should we give it a try?" he rasps, well-knowing that his question is more than ambiguous and that he is not only talking about getting up.

"Yes," Tom states, "yes, definitely," tightening his grip around Chris’ body.

On a wobbling leg, Chris stands up. He directs his attention to the armchair he wants to reach and places his arm around Tom’s shoulder. With a first hop, he bridges the distance between the bed and the chair, enwrapped in Tom’s unique, male scent. "That works especially well…. between us," Chris whispers despite his effort. He takes another hop and sinks into the armchair.

Tom looks Chris deep into the eyes and nods. "Yes it does. And I hope that you will like the ... _sushi_ ," he says, bringing two boxes out of the bag.  
  
"Now that’s an amazing _sushi_ ," Chris replies, eyes never leaving Tom. "It looks beautiful but I am sure that it has even more to offer from the inside."

Tom gulps visibly. "Are you sure that you want to have this sushi? All of it?"  
  
"Oh yes," Chris nods, warmth starting to pool in his belly. "But I have to admit that I am not used to this kind of … _dinner_ ", he adds. "You’ll have to be patient with me. Probably I am a bit, eh, clumsy. Eating with chopsticks, I mean."  
  
"I can teach you," Tom answers, voice low and enticing.  
  
"Yes," Chris whispers. "Yes, please."

 

***

 

Tom takes chopsticks out of the bag and hands them to Chris, keeping another set to himself. He stands up and bends over Chris, showing him how to hold them.

Chris knows that both of them know that he can already eat with chopsticks, but Tom places them between his fingers anyway, a touch like pure velvet. "You don’t have to be afraid to do anything wrong," Tom breathes and Chris closes his eyes.  
  
"I’m not afraid,“ he says, carefully taking Tom’s hand. They look each other in the eyes again and Chris holds his breath, longing for Tom’s kiss more than for anything else in the world. They are so close to each other that Tom’s stubble nearly touches Chris cheeks but before their lips can touch, Tom moves away.

"Have I done anything wrong?" Chris asks confused, "...with the chopsticks?"

Tom shakes his head. „It’s just…" he starts, drawing patterns on the table with his digit.

"That we shouldn’t do that here in the hospital?" Chris tries to help him out, heart beating like mad. "I can wait, I mean, I have waited my entire life…"  
  
"No, no," Tom replies. "I am not on duty and I don’t think that anyone will disturb us."

Chris starts to feel sick. "Have I… misinterpreted anything…?" he asks, "I am sorry if…."

There’s silence between them until Tom finally takes a heart. "It’s been a long while," he begins, "and I am not sure if I am, well, good enough for you."

Chris thinks that he cannot trust his ears. "W…. what have you just said?" he stammers.

"See, I am just an ordinary doctor and you are a real star, you can have any woman or man you want to have. And I am not even talking about the risk of being seen with another man with your profession." Tom circles his finger frantically around an invisible patch on the table. He doesn’t look up at first when Chris heaves himself out of the armchair, but Tom flinches when he notices that his patient is balancing his weight on his healthy leg only.

"Are you going to leave?" Tom asks, not even noticing the senselessness of his question.

"No, I am not," Chris answers, hobbling over to Tom. He simply leans against the table in front of him, moving the sushi out of the way. Chris searches for Tom’s hand and when he has found it, he tugs him upwards. He doesn’t let go of Tom’s hand until he has maneuvered him where he wants him to have, standing right between his legs. "'Ordinary doctor', are you kidding me?" Chris snorts, his hands slowly moving to Tom’s back where he places them upon his shirt while he continues to talk. "You’re the most wonderful, fascinating, amazing…" Chris doesn’t come any further because Tom finally - _finally!_ \- kisses him, a kiss that contains a million of questions.  
  
_Do you really want me? Are you sure? Please don’t play games with me._

Chris has never kissed a man before but he tries to give all the answers with his mouth, slowly parting his lips until he can feel Tom’s tongue. He moans into the kiss and takes Tom’s face between his hands, holding him in place while he kisses him deeply.

After some moments, the kiss gets passionate and Chris can feel Tom’s soft hands under his shirt, stroking his back. "You’re risking your career for that," Tom still tries to object but Chris doesn’t let go of him. "And you’re risking your job," he replies.

"I don’t care,“ Tom breathes against Chris’ swollen lips.

"And I don’t care either," Chris answers, "because I fell in love with you."


	10. Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still struggling with writing at the moment but I hope that you will like this update.

"I fell in love with you too," Tom admits before their lips reunite in an intense kiss.  
  
"The sushi," Chris finally pants, not because he wants to stop kissing Tom, but because he appreciates his effort of buying food for them.

"You can eat with chopsticks, can’t you?" Tom winks at Chris, cheeks rosy.

"Yes," Chris smiles, stealing another kiss from his doctor.

"And you can kiss," Tom whispers while their mouths find each other again.

Chris closes his eyes and savors their intimate contact, Tom’s gentle tongue, the tender caresses. There’s a huge bulge in his shorts by now but he doesn’t even care to hide it.

After breaking their kiss, Chris hobbles to his armchair, taking the chopsticks. "Which sushi do you like the most?" he asks Tom, laughing happily when Tom points at him instead.

"No, seriously," Tom replies, "I like the ones with salmon."

Chris nods and picks up a salmon roll, raising the chopsticks to feed Tom, his eyes glued to the physician. Chris inhales a shaky breath when Tom slowly opens his mouth, tongue darting out just a little bit.

"You are incredibly sexy," Chris murmurs, trying to take a second sushi roll but Tom shakes his head.

"It’s my turn," he states, offering a piece of sushi to Chris who gets even more aroused by the simple act of being fed.

They trade sushi rolls until both boxes are empty and until Chris’ heart is full of love. "We have to do that again," he murmurs, "not only because of the delicious food."

Tom beams at him. "Actually, we might get a chance to do that almost every day," he says, eyes glowing.

Chris looks at him, his face a big question mark.

"I talked to your team doctor," Tom continues, "and he thinks that you can start an outpatient rehab soon."

Chris however isn’t happy at all to leave the hospital. "And that means?" he mumbles.

"That means that you would need a doctor to take care of you on a daily basis. Checking on your wound and on your progress." Tom is still all smiles.

"I don’t get it," Chris answers, "we wouldn’t be able to see each other so often then."

"Oh yes, we would," Tom gives away, "because I would be that certain doctor."

 

***

 

Chris cannot count the minutes they kiss after that revelation. And suddenly the kiss isn’t a question any longer, it is a prospect, a promise even.

A promise of long hours - or nights? - in Chris’ house, the promise of undisturbed time together. Chris pulls Tom closer, leaving both of them breathless after they part.

They need three attempts of saying "good night" to each other, no one willing to let the other one go.

When Tom finally leaves, Chris knows that his life will never be the same again.

 

***

 

Two days and countless secret kisses later, Chris is able to leave the hospital. His mother accompanies him on his way home in the taxi. Chris sighs when he sits in the car, staring at the hospital longingly.  
  
"He will come to see you in the evening," Leonie says, well-knowing that Chris already misses Tom.

"Yes," Chris murmurs, facing his mom. "You know that he kissed me, don’t you?" he whispers silently so that the driver cannot hear them.

"Of course," his mother chuckles, "your face is an open book to me."

"I’m glad that my team doctor is occupied with the rest of the squad so that Tom can see to me," Chris replies. His ankle still hurts from time to time, the scar bright red and visible.

"Are you together now?" Chris’ mom asks.

"I think so," Chris answers sheepishly. "We haven’t talked yet about our… relationship. We didn’t want to do that in the hospital."

Leonie gets serious. "You have to find a way to handle your relationship. People want to know about your rehab progress and journalists will have a close look at your private life."

"I know, mom," Chris states, closing his eyes. His decision however is crystal clear and he has made it in the very same moment Tom has kissed him for the first time.

He has focussed long enough on his career, on being a professional footballer. He has neglected his love life, his privacy in general. And he doesn’t want to do that any longer.

He wants to live. And he wants to love.

 

***  
  
  
"Are you sure that you don’t need me any longer?" Leonie asks after they have entered Chris’ house, unpacking his bag. "Tom will be here in two hours only. Shouldn’t I cook something for you?"

"I think that he might bring some food for us," Chris answers wistfully. Besides, he wants to take a shower, finally. And he doesn’t want his mother to help him in the bathroom, as much as he appreciates her company.

"I see," Leonie winks, "I’ll go shopping then before I return to my hotel."

"You can also stay here overnight," Chris replies half-heartedly because he wants to be alone with Tom so badly.

"Darling, I won’t disturb you, that’s a given," Leonie means. She hugs Chris carefully before she calls a taxi to bring her back to the city center. With a puff, Chris closes the door behind her.

In less than two hours Tom will be there. And suddenly, Chris gets extremely nervous.

 

***

 

Chris tries to distract himself with his planned shower, walking over to his bathroom on his crutches. He sits down on a stool there, inspecting his ankle. There’s a large plaster covering the operation wound and he hopes that the scar doesn’t get too wet. But he needs a shower now, he wants to feel fresh and clean when Tom visits him.

With effort, Chris undresses his shorts and his briefs, tossing away his shirt into the next best corner. He balances on his healthy leg, hobbling to the shower cubicle and turning the water on. Satisfied with himself, he stands under the water stream, washes his body and his hair when his leg starts to tremble out of the blue, the muscles too strained to keep him upright any longer.

"Shit," Chris curses, switching off the water. He tries to reach the stool, frantically hobbling, but the ground is slippery now and Chris can feel that he loses his balance. Hands darting aimlessly through the air, getting a grip on nothing, Chris falls to the ground with a dull sound.

Almost immediately, pain shoots through his entire body, everywhere where he has hit the hard floor. Even worse than the ache is his sudden panic. Chris doesn’t dare to even look at his operated foot nor does he try to move the limb. Instead, he crawls over the tiles until he reaches his shorts, fumbling for his mobile in the pocket.

He dials Tom’s number, begging that the doctor would answer his call.

When he hears Tom’s voice, Chris cannot even explain anything. He just sobs into the phone. "Please come, Tom. I’m injured again."


	11. Awards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this update. I’d love to receive comments or kudos if you liked it. Thank you for reading my story!

"Chris, what has happened?" Tom says urgently and Chris can hear that he is running, probably down the hallway in the hospital. "Do you need an ambulance?"

"No, I need you," Chris replies weakly.

"Darling, tell me, where are you now?" A warm feeling floods through Chris when he hears the nickname but he’s still hurting all over.

"I’m at home. In my bathroom. I tried to shower," Chris manages to say.

"And you fell down?" Tom guesses alarmed.

"Yes," Chris whimpers, "I’m laying on the tiles."

"Oh shit," Tom replies, "are you sure that you don’t need an…."

"Please," Chris interrupts him, "please can you come?" He knows that he sounds desperate but he cannot help.

"Okay, I’ll be there as fast as possible," Tom states. "I’ll call you from my car again."

 

***

 

Tom talks Chris through the long minutes he has to wait for the doctor to arrive. He tells him to hang on and that he will be there soon, urging him to repeat the code for his entrance door.

Chris still lies in more or less the same position when he finally hears that his door is being opened. "I’m upstairs!" he croaks out, hoping that he is loud enough for Tom to hear him.

"Darling!" Tom exclaims and he literally flies upwards, taking more than one stair at a time.

Tom briefly closes his eyes to get himself together when he finds Chris, motionless and naked on the floor. Chris can detect the very exact moment Tom turns into the doctor mode. "Okay, where do you feel pain? Can you move your limbs? And what about your head?"

"I didn’t bump my head," Chris replies, "I fell to the side, more onto my hip."

"What about your injured leg?" Tom asks, kneeling down beside Chris.

"I don’t know," Chris admits, close to tears, "I don’t dare to move it."

"Shhh, babe," Tom murmurs, sending another wave of comfort through Chris. "Let me have a look."

Carefully, almost gently, Tom takes Chris’ ankle into his soft hands, moving it. "Does that hurt?"  
  
"No," Chris answers relieved.

Tom twists the ankle back and forth, looking at Chris worriedly. "What about that?"

"It’s okay," Chris croaks out, "I’m so sorry, Tom."

"Don’t be," Tom soothes him. "Can I see your hip as well?"

Chris nods, trying to shift his weight so that Tom can examine him. Tender fingers run over Chris’ skin, pressing here and there, until Chris groans. "You’ll have some bruises tomorrow," Tom states, "but nothing serious."

Chris closes his eyes. "I’m such a fool," he murmurs embarrassedly.

"You should have waited until I am here," Tom answers, placing a peck on Chris’ cheek, relief clearly written all over his face as well. "I would have been more than happy to assist you with your shower."

"I know," Chris adds, trying to get up.

"Easy!" Tom exclaims, bringing the stool. "I’ll help you to sit down here," he says, supporting Chris while he heaves himself into the chair.  
  
Water drips from Chris’ hair and Tom searches for something, apparently for a towel. "Over there, in the wardrobe," Chris points out. He tries to take the towel once Tom has found it but the doctor shakes his head.

"I’ll do that for you," he whispers, running the towel over Chris’ body. He dries his arms and his legs, his chest and his back and finally, he moves the towel into Chris’ lap, softly wiping over his private parts.

"How do I even deserve you," Chris whispers, pain long gone.

"You were in shock," Tom replies, "and I am glad that nothing serious happened to you."

"My desire for you is serious," Chris dares to reply because - of course - he has become hard during Tom’s ministration.

"Then let’s bring my patient to bed," Tom answers hoarsely, "you just have to show me the way."

 

***  
  


Chris is utterly relieved when he is finally laying in his bed, his back and hip still hurting from the fall. He hopes that Tom is going to join him and pulls a face when he switches to the doctor mode again.

"I have brought my medical bag with me," Tom announces, "let me see to your wound and your bruises." He chuckles when he sees Chris’ disappointed expression. "We have plenty of time for other… uhm… stuff afterwards."  
  
"I take you at your word," Chris murmurs, gazing longingly at his physician.

With a wink, Tom brings his bag and opens it before her returns to the bathroom to wash his hands. He slips into gloves and folds Chris’ blanket away. "Let’s start with your injured foot," Tom announces, carefully removing the plaster.

Chris screws up his face despite having Tom’s gentle hands upon his body. "That looks good," Tom soothes him when he has removed the plaster, "the wound is healing properly and I can remove the stitches in some days."

Chris has completely forgotten about the stitches and groans in frustration.

"You’ll get an award afterwards, I promise." Tom takes some disinfection spray and cleans Chris’ wound, drawing more hisses from him.

"Can I have an award for that too?" Chris brings out while Tom places a new plaster over his scar.

"Of course," Tom whispers, finally bending over Chris to kiss him.  
  
Chris takes Tom’s face into both of his hands, feeling his stubble underneath his fingertips. "Did I already tell you that you are sexy," he breathes, trying to tug Tom into the bed right next to him.

"Let me see to your hip first," Tom replies with tenderness, "the bruise there looks quite nasty."

Chris gives in and folds the blanket completely away, just slightly embarrassed about his nakedness and his raging hard-on.

Tom however focusses on his hip only, treating the bruise there before he finishes his work and slips out of his gloves.

Chris’ eyes are glued to Tom’s hands. "Can I feel you without that plastic between us now?" he begs.

Tom looks at him intensely. "You can even feel me without clothes between us," he rasps, standing up and undressing his shirt.

Chris gulps for air when he sees Tom like this, pale and slim, so utterly arousing. "More," he croaks out, earning an infectious smile from his doctor.

"Like this?" Tom whispers, opening his belt and tugging his pants down.

"Yes," Chris replies, eyes never leaving Tom who reveals another important part of his body now. An important bulge, to be precise, Chris thinks.

Tom stops when he is standing in front of Chris almost naked, with just his briefs still on. He hesitates to undress completely and gazes at Chris who just nods. "Please," Chris whispers.

Like in slow-motion, Tom steps out of his briefs, revealing his impressive manhood.

"You’re gorgeous," Chris says without thinking, lifting the blanket to invite Tom to join him.

Like an elegant tomcat, Tom slips under the blanket, skin warm and rosy. He takes Chris softly into his arms, holding him tight, bodies touching at full length.

"That’s wonderful," Chris fancies, "you’re so enticing."

Tom kisses him as an answer, gently at first, but soon more passionately.

"I’ve never done anything like this before," Chris admits breathlessly and finally, Tom starts to speak again.

"We don’t have to," he replies, "but if you want to, you can take my hand and guide me." No sooner said than done, Tom places his hand upon Chris’ chest, right over his madly beating heart. "Show me where you need me," he whispers.

With trembling fingers, Chris places his own hand above Toms, stroking his long fingers. He moves them over his chest, resting at his nipples out of a sudden instinct.

"There?" Tom asks, brushing his digit over Chris’ nipple.

The effect is breathtaking. Chris moans surprised when Tom repeats his caress, taking Chris’ nipple between his thumb and index finger. "What…?" Chris asks overwhelmed.

"I think we found one of your erogenous zones," Tom breathes into Chris’ ear, continuing to stroke him.

"Wow," is all that Chris can answer because he is getting even harder, longing for Tom’s touches. And so he takes Tom’s hand again and moves it downwards, into the direction of his belly.

Tom kisses Chris deeply while their joined hands wanders lower and lower. Chris hesitates for a second, thinking of all the years he has been forced to deny himself this kind of intimacy. It still feels unfamiliar but most of all, it feels arousing like nothing else. As the last encouragement, Chris whispers "I need your hand on me," before he stops talking and starts feeling.

Tom props himself up on an elbow while his other hand disappears deeper underneath the blanket. He’s so gentle that Chris’ heart clenches with all the love he feels for him. Tom runs a finger over Chris’ length at first, letting him get used to the touch before he takes him into his hand completely.

Chris is sure that this must be heaven on Earth. Tom strokes him with just the right speed and pressure, finding spots upon this sensitive part of his body Chris himself hasn’t even been aware of. Still, Tom is in no hurry, he explores Chris and indulges him at the same time, bringing him inevitably closer to his orgasm.

Chris knows that he won’t last long and Tom seems to feel that, whispering "don’t hold back, darling," into Chris’ ear. Closing his eyes and letting his senses take over, Chris lets go of everything. Of his entire past, of his fears and worries. Coming all over Tom’s hand and full of sheer bliss, he knows that he has found his destiny, his place to be.  
  
His home.


End file.
